The Interns of Seattle Grace
by StarletOfTheForest
Summary: A series of vignettes about the interns of Seattle Grace Hospital. No particular timeline. Newest addition: Izzie, part deux.
1. Cristina

They're not interns anymore, I know that, but there's other residents and yeah. They'll always be the interns to me. So yes, this is a small writing exercise to get me back into the world of writing, seeing I haven't written anything for nearly two years. The shame! There'll be a vignette for each intern, possibly more if I feel like it. I'll probably update every few days but don't expect much. Here's the first, I don't love it, but then again, I'm not aiming for a masterpiece. xD

--

She held the tiny, wailing infant at arms' length, just like she had held everyone else in her life. Until, of course, his father had come along and made her _love _someone for once, and then he'd left her at the altar and it had all been broken. Cristina had seen him again, only once since he'd left her and resigned, at a chance meeting at a conference. A few drinks led to something more, and here she was, nine months later, with a baby in her arms. Burke and his stupid boy penis, always getting her pregnant. Stupid boys, like Bailey had said, they sucked the life out of you, even right from the very beginning.

Cristina had scheduled an appointment with the clinic. She'd scheduled three, in case cases came up and she missed them. But life as a resident was even harder than life as an intern and she'd been screwed anyways.

She had trouble thinking of a name for him, with his soft mocha skin and head full of coarse black curls and tiny hands curled delicately into fists. Cristina Yang didn't do fluffy and cuddly, which was why she wasn't a pediatrician (not that she'd go into it anyways, not enough prestige or money) and why she'd never given a thought to a potential name. She had kept working straight through her pregnancy, determined to not even think about the life growing inside of her. But he'd been alive for three days now and enough was enough.

Cristina grasped the pen in her hand and scribbled "Isaac Preston Yang" onto the birth certificate in her chicken-scratch, doctor's handwriting, and handed it to the nurse. He (no, Isaac, mentally corrected herself,) was a part of both of them, and his name deserved to reflect that.


	2. Izzie

This one feels a bit out of character, and it's a lot shorter than the first one. Oh well. xD Um… today's my birthday, and guess what? Reviews make _excellent _presents. :D

--

Izzie slipped on her flower-patterned oven mitts, and gently slid the scalding-hot metal tray crammed with cookies out of the oven and onto the countertop.

The sweet smell of the chocolate chips was soothing to anyone, but this didn't help quench Izzie's tears. It was a well-known fact at Seattle Grace Hospital that Isobel Stevens baked only when something was wrong, and to her, something was _very _wrong.

A salty tear escaped one of her coffee-colored eyes and slipped, unnoticed, down her smooth cheek. He was gone, and the house was quiet and empty, the rest of its occupants gone to his wedding, and oh, she wasn't quite sure if she could take it anymore -

Suddenly, the door swung violently open, rattling on its hinges. He ran over to her, face flushed, as if he'd sprinted straight from the chapel, and embraced her in his arms.

"I couldn't go through with it, Iz," he said in the way that made her melt. "I looked at her, Rebecca, and she was you and I knew I couldn't marry her when the one I loved wasn't in a white dress at all."

Izzie let herself become lost in his touch, let him nuzzle her neck and tell her everything was going to be all right, because this time she knew it was true.


	3. Meredith

Well, this one is kind of emo. I may have to write a happier Meredith one to appease myself.

--

Meredith Grey had never been a girl to enjoyed bad weather.

You'd think, growing up in Seattle, she would be used to the cloudy skies and constant rain, but she'd never enjoyed it. That's why Meredith now wished she'd picked a better day.

The wind whipped her dark blonde hair around her, fanning it out like a halo around an angel. The color of the sky matched the color of the platinum wedding ring she was twisting around her long, pale ring finger. She rocked slowly back and forth on her tiny, ballet flat-clad feet, peering down the cliff to the city below.

Meredith wasn't sure what she was doing on the edge of the cliff. She was finally _happy. _Happy with her marriage to her McDreamy, happy with her career, happy with the dream home they were building a few hundred feet behind her. She'd gotten all whole and healed, but she still felt that she wasn't entitled to all the happy.

"Meredith?" she heard Derek's voice call, louder than normal and with a slight tinge of panic.

The sound of his voice snapped Meredith out of her trance, and she slowly backed away from the cliff.

She'd never let him know, but at one point, their perfect happiness had been one step away from shattering.


	4. Izzie Part 2

So. I have no inspiration for George or Alex, so here is an Izzie one. Sorry it took so long – I was trying to scrounge up something for George or Alex but nothing came, so I switched to Izzie. As I am an atheist, my descriptions of Izzie's religion in this are most likely wrong. I apologize in advance! This was kind of random, and I don't love it, although I do find the idea absolutely adorable. And now I'm rambling, and this is going to be longer than the thing itself. So, yes. Shutting up now.

--

The scratchy cream-colored carpet itched Izzie's shins and the wooden frame of her bed dug into her legs, but Izzie didn't care. Her hands, the tiny, milky-white hands of a seven-year-old, were clasped together on top of her Barbie-adorned comforter. Izzie hated the materialistic views of Barbie, but it had been on sale at Wal-Mart and she couldn't complain.

A wisp of a sentence tumbled out of her mouth the same way her long blonde curls flowed down her back.

"Dear God, I wish you could make it so my mommy could come home to tuck me in. But she's working the graveyard shift at the Chehalis Diner, so she can't, and I have to do it myself. Daddy left the other day, too. Mommy says that the psychic thinks he'll be back, but I don't think so. My friend Shelby, her daddy left a few years ago and he hasn't come back. I know you have a lot of other things to worry about, but maybe you can make it so one day, Mommy and Daddy can both be there to kiss me goodnight. I'd like that. Love, Isobel Stevens."

Izzie scrambled up the bed and cocooned herself inside the gaudy hot pink comforter, screwing her brown eyes tight until no more tears fell and she was fast asleep.


End file.
